


Sweet Blood

by sylverkeller



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of the prank, Diabetic characters, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Wendigo, Wendigo Josh Washington, everyone has a bad time, guys bein dudes (and eating dudes), in this house we respect our dumpster fire pancreas friends, jk its for psychoanalysis of SadBoi Aesthetics, just some pals being pals, lots of flashbacks, rip flame thrower guy, what if we just mentally tortured everyone for a while?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylverkeller/pseuds/sylverkeller
Summary: Josh has done fucked up shit in his life time. Chris and Logan have been there to keep his head above water. The Three Idiot Amigos. And then the twins die. And then Josh does THAT. And Chris lashes out and leaves the shed to get some space, leaving Josh and Logan to sit and talk (and get kidnapped by monsters). Josh can't afford to lose anyone else when they get trapped in the cavern- but Logan doesn't have time to wait for escape.
Relationships: Chris Hartley & Josh Washington, Josh Washington & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Don't Fear (the wendigo)

**Author's Note:**

> I had a wack ass dream about wendigos having diabetes and then four conspiracy theory texts to my boyfriend later I was furiously writing this story down on a notepad. Also, I have type one diabetes and the way the character reacts to having the disease and how they manage it is very closely based on my own experiences with this awful disease, everything else is Logan's unique brand of assholery.

Present- Three Days Post Game

She looked at Josh, looked longingly at the moonlight above them, looked at the corpses outlined in the shadows, looked at anything but the blinking screen in front of her.

“Do you think they’ll come for us?” She breaks the silence, and is startled by the burst of laughter her best friend gives.

“After everything I did to them? Not likely.” He turns to face her and she can see the growing starvation on his face, “They might for you.” He looks how she feels, hunger increasing to the point her guts are twisting and slowly getting so intense her bones are starting to ache. Or its the blinking little screens fault.

EMPTY RESERVOIR! CHANGE PUMP NOW! It taunts her. The screen blinking and softly beeping. The hunger twisting with fear so strong she feels as though she will break under its will. “Mike saw us both get kidnapped. He’ll tell the others.” She doesn’t want to think of the alternative. Of leaving. Of dying while her body devours itself. Forget the  literal monsters roaming the mines looking for tasty people-snacks, her body will get to her before they do. And then Josh would be alone again.

Josh snorts, carefully pacing along the edge of the cave and kicking pebbles, “Mike punched me in the face and accused you of helping me with the prank. He thinks we’re scum.” He pauses at her side, reads the same accursed blinking screen, and curses, “He thinks I killed Jess.”

“We can try to leave when my ankle doesn’t look like a watermelon anymore.” She stops his (and her) exhausted train of thought, “My supplies are in the lodge in my duffle bag.” It’s a lie. Her ankle isn’t going to heal anytime soon- it’s definitely broken, it won’t be able to bear any weight for weeks even if it heals perfectly down here. She’ll be dead by then.

But Josh has already admitted to hearing  _ Them _ and she knows he would give in to  _ Them _ if she left him alone- if he thought he would be left alone. If she leaves him vulnerable to Their suggestion. And she hears them too. Feels her throat dry and wanting for a drink. And knows it is not water she craves. 

“Ok, I trust you know when that kind of stuff heals. You’re basically a doctor by this point.” Josh sighs, content, but she can hear the dreamy quality and knows he’s not all there- again- as he sits down and huddles next to her for warmth. 

The moon sets above them and total darkness overtakes their little cave as the sun begins to rise. Logan leans into him and prays to whatever forces have kept them alive this long that Josh doesn’t give in when she leaves. And if he does- that he doesn’t eat anyone they love.

* * *

*2 Years Ago*

She danced around the kitchen, the sultry voice of Shawn James seranading her as she put the last of the monster themed cookies on their designated serving plate. The scent of the taco platter staying warm in the oven almost overpowering the sickly sweet smell of the vanilla frosting she’d made for the cookies.

“It smells like heaven and the living room looks like a magazine spread- when are Chris and Josh coming over?” A high pitched sing song voice asked. Logan laughed as her roommate Alyssa showed her face- eyes glazing over with hunger, “I want two tacos and the zombie cookies.”

Logan swatted the other woman’s hand away from the plates, “Hands off barbie! You can’t have any unless you’re participating in Monster Movie Marathon- and you don’t even like the boys!”

Alyssa had hair the color of fire and brown eyes that sparkled with mischief- and Logan didn’t trust her around the MMM food as far as she could throw the other girl. “But please?” Alyssa begged, eyes sparkling like a doe’s, “I’m sacrificing a weekend at home to give you the space to veg out with your gross best friends! Can’t I have like, one taco and six zombie cookies? Maybe a handful of the green popcorn?”

Logan pretended to ponder her deal, but really was mentally checking their tupperware and plastic baggy catalogue to see what would be best to pack her and her friend’s boyfriend's food in so she could send her on her way faster. “Hmmm… ok, but you can’t complain about not being home- your boyfriend is taking you on a scuba trip to Florida. Not exactly a sacrifice you spoiled rotten princess.”

Alyssa laughs, then squeals in a great impression of a dying cat, throwing herself around the kitchen island to hug Logan as she loads up the goodies, “Oh! You’re the best roomie ever! I’ll never complain again in my life!” She runs off like a fox who's broken into the chicken coop and needs to hide her prize and Logan can’t help the chuckle that escapes.

“I don’t believe you but I love you regardless!” She shouts after the girl, who soon returns carrying her luggage behind her and the bag of goodies clenched in her teeth. “Say hi to His Majesty for me, will you?”

Seconds after she leaves, Josh comes spilling through the door, Chris close behind and carrying enough beer to last them the weekend (hopefully). “Princess off to the castle then?”

Logan nods, spreading her arms to display her treats as Christ settles the beer on the small amount of free counter space, “And we are free to celebrate Monster Movie Marathon with no interruptions!”

Chris does an awful impression of a victorious air guitar rift while high-fiving Josh and Logan laughs. They’re idiots. But by the leathery face of the Necronomicon does she love her boys. She snaps her fingers to get their attention and smiles in her best Vincent Price, “Now Children- let us begin our feast!”

* * *

Present - Six Days Post Game

Her breath smells like a tropical smoothie when she wakes up. She knows because Josh tells her. “Is that bad?” He asks and she wants to be mad at him. She’s been diabetic since before she and Josh were friends. He should know what ketones smell like- he’s driven her to the emergency room more than once smelling like a produce section. But she can see the glassy hunger in his eyes when he says it. The way his eyes sparkle at the word ‘smoothie’. And she doesn’t blame him.

_ Aren’t you just as hungry? _ Says the wicked voice in the back of her mind. She imagines it as a faceless monster. Certainly not full of sharp teeth, dripping equal parts oil and honey as it speaks to the darkest parts of her psyche.  _ Don’t you want to end this pain? _

So she sucks in a breath and smiles gently. “Guess my pump’s  **really** empty. Thought we’d at least be able to squeeze another day out of it.”  _ Don’t you want to stop  _ **_his_ ** _ suffering? _ Oh, it was a clever little hallucination.

He looks worried again, and he paces the floor slower, more methodically, like whatever unseen pattern he carves into the stone floor will make the panic building in his chest just stop. “You were in a good range before-  _ before? _ Before that  _ thing _ took us? Right?”

“Yeah, like, in the 200s before  _ that _ but I’ve been a tad stressed since then.” That’s an understatement, Logan fiddles with her flannel jacket to avoid looking at Josh’s face, “I’m probably way high right now. And not even the fun kind.” She clears her throat in an attempt to make the unnatural burning go away, “I’m thirsty.”

“Water helps, I can go find some.” He’s teetering, that edge between sanity and the madness of whatever withdrawal he’s definitely experiencing right now- or maybe it’s the madness of the mountain pressing in on the one person who could calculate her shots faster than she could sometimes. “It-it flushes the sugar out, right?”

She knows where the water is just like he does, where they’d almost been killed and devoured by a walking nightmare. “Yes. But Josh-  _ be careful _ ,  _ They  _ could still be in the tunnels.”

But if Josh heard her, he wanders away without an ounce of showing it. And she’s so tired, she just doesn’t  care anymore. The mountain is doing something horrible to them both, and instead of contemplating how long she’ll have before the hunger in Josh’s eyes reaches his bones she lays down and watches the moon.

-Josh-

_ Wendigo. Wendigo. Wendigo. _ Josh knows the word from hours of browsing all horror media- from hours spent on scary story forums and a decade plus of watching monster movies. It eats people, he remembers that. It’s never satisfied, he also remembers that. And he knows they’re stronger when the sun is weakest- when winter can drive people mad.  _ And I led my friends right into Their lair. _ He tries not to think of what that means for him and Logan- being trapped in the heart of their territory. Tries to ignore the way his stomach turns in knots and flips and butterflies. He has water to find.

The water is clear, and is so cold it burns. But Logan needs it.  _ Like a physical punishment for your sins, _ a voice viciously whispers and Josh doesn’t know if it’s Withdrawal Crazies or  _ Them _ , so he ignores it in favor of using a cracking helmet he found along the edge of the tunnel as quickly as possible. He needs to stay focused, resist the numb and blissful temptation of disassociation before he can do this for his one remaining friend. He knows Logan needs him now, needs him to stay away from  _ Their _ calls while she carefully tries to steer him away from those thoughts. If he wants to save her he needs to be her rock for once.

_ Aren’t you hungry? _ Asks The Voice, sounding like honey and everything sweet and saccharine.  _ Aren’t you feeling weak? You could save her, _ They continue, _ you could both be so strong.  _ It’s tempting, it really is. The idea if he tosses his humanity to the side and just gives into  _ Them _ he can leave everything that makes him weak behind, live eternal and free- its  **very tempting** . To side-step the count down to Logan leaving him behind and stop her body from failing her and give her another chance at life, unencumbered.

But he also knows if Logan knew what a terrible secret he held in his heart (that his humanity was already so frail) she would kill him before she let her body finish the job. She knew more about monsters anyways- those were her favorite movies. She probably had a better argument against the soft voices whispering in his ears. So he continued trying to swallow the bitterest of pills and did as she asked- he would let her do what she wanted.  _ She always had a plan. She can get us out of this, I just know it. _

_ And if she can’t?  _ The Voice asked,  _ will she forgive you? _ Yes, she’d forgive him- eventually. She had to. Because he wouldn’t go alone from the mortal plane. He knows that in his heart like he knows the scent of fruit is actually the calling card of Death. Like Logan’s icy fingers fault to make a tight grip when he hands her the water and watches as it spills down her weakened face and it feels like daggers to his heart. When she can’t fight him, he decides. When he can’t fight anymore and his attempts to save him. She’ll forgive him. She’s his best friend.


	2. Oh death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh and Logan have a bad time. 'They' wait patiently in the wings. A flashback to the beginning of the end. Recommended chapter sound track is "Control" by Halsey, "Heart-Shaped Box" by Nirvana, and "A conversation with Death" by Khemmis.

“That man was a douche.” Logan huffs, pushing the popcorn bowl from her lap onto the coffee table, “He deserved to be bear chow.”

Chris disagrees, “He was an asshole but I don’t think he should have been **mauled**! He was just trying to get his girlfriend out of her comfort zone!”

“He didn’t even bring a fucking _map_.”

“He said he knew the trail!”

“She wanted to camp, he wanted to show off he was a badass. He was totally out of line for most of the movie! If he’d let her keep her phone they would have lived!”

She didn’t have service, Lo-lo. He just wanted to make sure it was a tech-free weekend.”

“Uh, if I might,” Josh interjects, eyes sparkling as he holds his laughter through his Very Serious British Voice, “Chris- you would actively sacrifice your S.O. if they took your phone and left it in the car. And Logan is too stubborn and would have left with ‘Sexy Irish Man’ at the first sign her boyfriend didn’t know where they were.”

Logan grumbles, folding her arms like a petulant child before giving in and sighing, “I would’ve tied him to a tree first.”

“Ok, fine. You’re right- you bastard.” Chris pouts, hiding behind his can of beer.

Josh’s smile could rival the sun with it’s million watt-intensity and is thankfully interrupted by a yawn, “Yes, and as your glorious and smarty-pants leader I demand bedtime and also call the spot next to Logan.” Chris squawks in indignation, “You can sleep on the floor this time Chris.”

“You slept on the bed last time! I get the bed this time!” 

“I bought a camp cot.” Logan interrupts both of them, shaking her head, “I didn’t know I was such a hot commodity.”

“Ah, well then,” Chris turns a new shade of red while his two best friends rib him, “I guess that’s not that bad.” 

Of course, when they’re all settled and comfortably drifting off Josh reminds them he’s never been able to ‘just sleep’ in his entire life. “So, hey, you love me, right?”

Logan is used to this, “Duh, I don’t let just anyone cuddle me.”

“Ok,” Josh says, scooting closer and huddling under the warm duvet, “And you love the twins?”

She almost flips around to ask what he’s about, “Yeah?”

“And my parents love you like the other kid they always wanted?”

“Your mom bought me almost four thousand dollars worth of insulin when I fried mine on the trip to Disneyland- yes I know your family loves me Josh.”

“Ok,” He says, his nose is now threatening to burrow into her shoulder, “So…. if we invited you along for the winter vacation.”

Ah, Logan had forgotten winter vacation was quickly coming at the university. “I don’t like the mountain, Josh.” She also doesn’t like these conversations every year. The same circles every time January comes along. “It freaks me out.”

“But its not the same without you! It’s like all the fun is missing from my life!”

“First off, Chris is right there- have some respect for your husband.” Chris makes a sound of affirmation. And besides, Logan doesn’t know how to describe the way the mountain makes her feel. Like poison leaching into her from the ground and making its way into her very soul- heavy and black like she’s drowning.

“Secondly, I don’t even like skiing or shooting- or hiking! Especially not in the snow! Call me up when your parents buy a tropical island. That mountain feels straight _cursed_ to me.”

Josh also knows the circles this conversation goes in every year and this is the part where she refuses to argue further. “Alright. Tropical island. On the shopping list now.”

“I want a snow cone stand on the island.” Chris adds before they all settle down to actually sleep this time.

* * *

Present- 14 days post prank

Water doesn’t do shit. It probably just delayed the inevitable organ failure by at least giving Logan a way to vacate the excess ketones in her stomach acid. It had been almost two weeks without insulin and her pallor was ashy and greying rapidly, lips so cracked from puking she was bleeding constantly. Josh doesn’t know what’s worse- watching Logan turn inside out and die slowly or that her blood smells _appealing to him._

Josh holds her locs as her body heaves again, brown bile spilling on the stone floor. “Its ok,” He soothes, free hand rubbing her back and wincing every time he felt a disc in her spine. “You just need to drink more water. You’re almost ready to walk out of this place.” 

_Escape_ . It’s all Josh talks about lately. An escape, like she would be able to move in just a few hours. She can feel the death rattle when she breaths, the thirst burning in her throat. They call to her mor now, when her body hurts so bad she could almost give in. _An escape. No pain. No cold. No_ _death._ Its no longer a single voice, but a choir of wickedness and evil disguised as angels. _Aren’t you hungry? Couldn’t you just_ _devour_ _something?_

“Do-do They always have to talk so much?!” She coughs, pulling away from Josh and crawling to the wall where she can curl against it for support, “Can’t They just let me be sick in peace?!”

Josh follows, dutifully curling around her, stretching so he encases her body and tries to massage her acid soaked muscles. “Tomorrow,” He vows, “I’ll get your medicine tomorrow.”

Logan thinks she can feel him crying while he rubs her stiff and dying limbs, but she's not really conscious enough to offer any comfort lately. She’ll try when she’s awake next.

Logan is going to kill him. But when he slowly stands, he can see the emaciated frame that belongs to one of his best friends and he feels less guilty. She’ll hate him for this, as he crawls away from her and to the room full of frozen corpses and looks for someone they won’t recognize. But she’ll forgive him. She didn’t leave him after the prank- she has a heart big enough for this. _What’s a little cannibalism between dying friends?_ The mocking voice of Not Emily asks. But he’s not listening, he’s found someone suitable.

He doesn’t look like anyone Logan or Josh knows. His head presumably the round thing a few feet away, ripped clean from the neck. His stomach still lurches when he begins to tear his coat off, but he reasons Logan will need it anyways. Another smaller voice whispers that he is _desecrating a dead body._

 _She’s so hungry._ The choir of Them sings in response, hands guided by an invisible force tot he knife on the man’s belt. _So thirsty._ **_YOU. ARE. SAVING. HER._ **

* * *

-1 year ago-

Josh knows Logan hates ‘the conversation’ every year, but he thinks he might have the right tool to get a different answer this year. 

“Its all the twins want this year- its their 21st birthday!” He begs Logan when they plate up for another grindhouse flick, armed with tacos and margaritas, “They want all their family and friends at the cabin this year!”

“They drink all the time Josh, turning 21 just means we can take them out in public now.” Logan argues, not even bothering to turn around as she pulls her fluffy blanket around her and sits down on the deceptively soft old couch. “It’s just a cultural excuse to get alcohol poisoning. And their birthday is the week before the trip anyways- I’ll take them out to dinner on their actual birthday and you guys can enjoy the trip to the cabin without me.”

Chris also knows how this conversation goes, and desperately gives Josh a silent “quit while you’re ahead” look. But Josh won’t give up this year.

“It would mean a lot to the twins though, you _never_ go to the mountain. Just the night of the party and then I will personally drive you to the airport in the morning.” Josh squeezes Logan’s side as he sits between Chris and Logan, “ **Please**. I’ll never ask again! We’ll go to Puerto Rico or something next winter break.”

Logan would normally say no, but Josh is right. The twins only turn 21 once, and she had refused to step foot on the mountain for almost ten years now… she sighed dramatically, “Fine! One day at the cabin, and then we drink it up in the jungle.”

“I second a vacation to Puerto Rico.” Chris looks starry eyed- obviously imagining Ashley in a skimpy bikini running across white sand. “A warm, sexy beach…”

Logan holds her margarita can up in a toast, “Hear! Sexy beaches over frozen cabins!”

“To mimosas on the beach and crystal blue ocean to swim in. And to the last trip we ever make to the cabin!” Josh cheers, and he feels like he’s walking on top of the world. This will be a year like none other, he can feel it. His whole family will finally be up on the mountain together and he can’t wait to celebrate such a special occasion with his two best friends. He can just tell, a warmth that settles into his bones.

* * *

Present- 16 days post prank

Logan can’t stay awake for more than a few hours now. But when she wakes up at the next moon-rise her heart sinks. Josh won’t make eye contact with her, won’t let her see the left side of his face, won’t touch her when he hands her a winter coat soaked with blood at the collar. But at least she’s warmer.

“What did you do?” She finally manages, done puking up yesterday’s water. Her throat burns worse every days and she can barely even lift her body up anymore, but she wants some answers before she dies.

Josh’s hands feel like _ice_ as he carefully arranges the coat so its covering most of her body. “You’re dying.” He replies simply. “I found a coat and I want you to be comfortable.” _When you die._ Hangs in the air between them. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Her muscles are soaked in acid, moving is painful, but she finds the burst of anger she needs to grab Josh’s face and turn him to face her. “Oh Josh…” His eye is already beginning to turn a milky white, the bright emerald a faded pastel beneath whatever film is covering it now. “What did you do?” She repeats, and she flinches more than he does when her cracked lips rip and blood flecks on his face. “What did you do?”

“You’re dying.” He looks sad. “I’m going to save you.”

Logan can’t even react, brain too addled as he pulls something she refuses to identify from his pocket and his grip on her shoulder becomes painful. _Please! NO!_ She tries to fight. Tries to pull away from his death grip as he pushes her to the floor and straddles her bony frame. To pull from that well of rage that had helped her grab Josh. But her muscles aren’t cooperating, even as she screams, thrashes. Josh has had at least a full day to grow strong though, and he takes her beating with a look of anguish before forcing her jaw open and shoving something cold, wet, and slimy down her throat. 

She wants to puke. To reject the curse he has just doomed her with. But its like her stomach has turned off, won’t listen as she gags and tries to get the wretched taste out of her mouth. _Welcome._ They sound like the most wicked of angelic choirs as they rejoice in her pain. _Welcome!_

“I’m going to bite you.” Is what she coughs one last time before the adrenaline spike sends her careening into unconsciousness and her body gives out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upcoming: Sam has a bad time. Chris has a bad time. Everyone is just *not* having a good time, dudes.  
> On a more serious note: It may seem like Josh is giving in really fast, but if you've ever had the bad luck to see someone go into serious DKA (Diabetic Keto Acidosis) you'll know that it's a horrific way to die and if you had to watch one of your best friends die like that... becoming a horrific monster doesn't seem so bad in comparison. Poor Josh. One bad decisions leads to such a shit storm. RIP.


	3. Change (in the house of death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested sad playlist: Cry Little Sister by Marilyn Manson, In the Woods Somewhere by Hosier, and Change (in the House of Flies) by the Deftones  
> Sam is having a bad time. Chris brings some... news of dubious nature. Some playfulness ensues despite the horrible shit going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter update but I am anticipating rewriting this whole thing over again when I'm done. So there's that to look forward to?

-4 months ago-

Sam thinks the phrase “Time heals all wounds” is  _ bullshit _ . It feels like every day since she lost the twins has been like a growing vice on her heart. Some days she couldn’t breath, couldn’t get out of bed to greet a world that didn’t have her two best friends in it. And everything reminds her of them it seems, so she can’t even try to distract herself.

Talking with Josh has been a godsend, to talk and actually  _ grieve _ with someone who understood her pain. Late nights spend laughing at home videos and memories they both shared. 

On one of the better nights, when she feels like one day she can see a butterfly without wanting to scream, she asks a question. “How is Logan handling this?” The girl in question currently throwing water balloons at Chris and the rest of their friends from behind a makeshift beach-chair wall with Josh behind the Camera and handing more ammo to her and the twins. Then the screen changed to a video of Hannah, balanced precariously on a ladder, Beth holding the bottom, and Logan and Josh gleefully placing horror movie props on a christmas tree that looked right at home in the Chainsaw Massacre house. She felt so selfish, not thinking about how the other girl must have been handling this- she’d loved the twins too.

“I don’t know.” Josh admits,”We didn’t talk to each other after the funeral and its-it's been so long since then.” He sounds choked, and Sam realizes he lost more than his two sisters on that mountain. “I think she hates me now.” And then the line had gone dead.

The conversation had left her with a lot to think about. There was so much she wanted to do- to ease her and her friends suffering. And then Josh had presented the perfect solution when he sent the e-vites to the cabin in early December. Telling them in advance so they could mentally prepare for the reunion and memorial party he had planned and it was like a lightbulb went off. She was off to Logan’s apartment like a fire had been lit under.

Alyssa answered the door, “What do you want? Logan’s not seeing people right now.” 

Sam would be intimidated by the scorching glare if the other woman wasn’t the size of a middle schooler and dressed like Snow-bunny Barbie in bright pink and sparkly  everything . “I’m here to cheer her up.” She holds the six pack of diet coke aloft with the bag of chinese food in her arms, “It's a surprise.”

Alyssa looks her up and down, like a mama bear assessing a threat before her glare softens and she opens the door fully, side-stepping to let Sam in. “Make sure she actually takes her insulin then. She’s been in bad shape since the funeral.”

The march down the hall finds Logan huddled under a mountain of blankets in a sea of laundry, dirty dishes, and a worrying amount of empty beer bottles. “You look like shit.”

Logan glares from her soft cocoon before the surprise over-writes her features, “Sam? What the fuck?”

“I brought lunch,” Sam wades through the filth, carefully perching on the end of the bed, “Although I guess I should’ve grabbed some depresso-espresso for you too.”

The bark of laughter catches them both by surprise, and Logan cracks a sad smile, “Diet coke is an acceptable substitute.” She sits up, blankets pooled around her waist now, “Gimme gimme gimme!”

Sam laughs again, tossing a soda bottle at Logan, “I also got your ‘usual’ from the Happy Dragon- Chris said you’re in love with the Shao Mai.”

“He knows me so well.” The smile twitches a little, betraying her real mood.

“He says hi.”

Logan sighs as she cracks her soda open, hiding behind the hiss and gulping down enough to give her a moment to think. “What brought you here- for reals, Sam- it can’t  just be for lunch.”

Sam bites her nail in return, unsure how she’ll receive her intentions, “I was wondering if you’d heard about the Memorial Reunion?”

Logan looks angry faster than she had thought possible, “I’m  _ never _ going back- ever.” So that’s a yes on at least knowing about it. “The one time I said yes I lost two of my best friends.”

The rest of her visit is done in silence. It’s probably for the best.

Present- 20 days post prank

The coffee is hot. Objectively, she knows this, but Sam doesn’t really feel much these days. Chris looks like he hasn’t slept in years sitting across the table from her. “Any  real news?” She finally musters the courage to ask.  _ Any bodies? _

“The search teams haven’t found anything yet.” He sounds dead, like he’s just a robot in a human shell. “And they’re always off the mountain before nightfall so no one’s gone missing- so that’s good for them.”

“I’m sure they’ll find them soon, Josh and Logan are tough.” Sam tries to comfort her friend but the words are as empty as they feel. 

Chris looks down, eyes refusing to meet hers as his voice cracks, “But a hiker just did.”  **_Oh._ ** “She’s been missing since Sunday and there are another two that were just reported missing as of yesterday.”

Her stomach falls and her heart sinks. She knows what that means. “Did we miss some in the Sanatorium?”

“No.” Chris pulls out a ratty notebook and Sam registers Flamethrower Guy’s handiwork when she sees the living nightmare immortalized inside the cover in painstaking detail. “He says there might be a group of spirits in the mines- old ones that mostly hibernate deep in the mines- but that they only woke up when there was an imbalance on the mountain.”

Sam can’t help the snort, “Yeah? Like that nature spirit monster flick Logan made us watch for Arbor Day in highschool?” Disbelief is easier to hold onto than admitting what might have happened to their friends. Because that’s worse. That’s worse than dying- so much worse.

“And you think-” The memory of ghostly limbs stretched by inhuman hunger flashes so quickly in her mind she flinches.

“No, these spirits wouldn’t have killed them.” His voice lowers, “But they are supposed to be better at driving people insane.” Oh god, that might actually be worse. “If-if Logan wasn’t doing well-”

“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t have done  _ that _ .” But even as she says it she knows better.

Sam’s a hardcore believer in the “Rule of 3s”. Three minutes without air. Three days without water. Three weeks without food. And that was for someone without a chronic illness that depended on medicine to continue living. She’d done her research, knew that the body would desperately eat itself to try to get energy. The blood becoming acidic. And she would be alone with Josh- someone who had already lost everyone else he loved. Who couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

“Fuck.” Is her elegant answer as guilt squeezes her, making it hard to breath.

“Yeah.” Chris sounds tinny, and Sam realizes  _ he knows too _ , “Yeah.”

She can’t breath, the world spinning around her as she gasps. Gasps again, because  **FUCK** this is  her fault. Distantly, she hears Chris drop the notebook, circling the table so he can say something that she can’t hear. She can’t breath, goddammit! She killed her friends. Actually, she did worse than kill her friends-  **she cursed them** .

Chris is doing his best, holding her tightly until she can feel reality returning. Until her stupid.selfish.brain registers Chris’ tears hitting her ear and that he’s crying too as she clings to his sweater. “I’m sorry.” She sobs, clutching harder as her guilt threatens to swallow her whole. “It’s all-all my fault!”

A hand in her hair stops, and Chris twists so Sam is looking right into his watery eyes, “It's no-not your-your fa-fault Sam. I-I should-shoulda gone ba-back.” He’s crying so hard she’s afraid he’ll never stop, “As-as soon as tha-that thing to-took them!” 

What a spectacle they must make, wailing like children in this small coffee shop. But Sam feels worse about her next thought, “I hope- hope we find their bodies. I hope they're dead! Oh god, Chris, what is  wrong with me?!” Her wails feel like claws tearing her heart out of her body. How could she  **say that?!**

Chris’ sobs have slowed, the kind that hurt because you can’t breathe enough for a proper wail, but he just holds her tighter, “I know.” He cries. And they sit there for a long time.

* * *

Present- 1 month post prank

Logan is numb. Her jaw aches. And her lips have cracked and bled so much she doesn’t think they’re really even human shaped anymore. That’s not as much of a problem as she had thought. Really, it's ok. Soon she’ll match Josh- and then they can be a true  _ pack _ . She stretches as the moon-rise begins to show in the hole at the top of the cavern, appreciating the lack of pain the action causes. She had been weak, before, thinking that death was the answer. And as she scratches the scabbing skin on her cheek she wonders why she had been so  _ human _ about the problem. This is a much easier existence.

Josh sports the anger she’d felt when she first realized she was no longer dying- a nasty bite in his shoulder that had bled sluggish black ichor and is now mostly scarred over again now. She feels minor guilt, but with every day it fades, she too sports a scar now on her shoulder from his fearsome claws. They are marked- it makes them match- and it makes it easier to identify each other in the darkness of the tunnels that make their new home. 

Josh can also see better than she can at the moment, his eyes are already adapted to their new home, and he teases her constantly as they race and play in the stony tunnels. He can find the ways out of the maze-like structures they wrestle in- and he teases her with fresh kills shortly after she stops caring about what being human had been like. One day, she will have the same prowess her packmate has, and they will climb into the cold mountain air and they will rule over the mountain and all the living things within it. It was the way of things. Pack above all else, and the hunger above that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP to being human and RIP to Sam's mental health. Poor girl, beating the hell out of herself because she thinks its all her fault. It's not Sammy- I'm just a giant dick who likes to hurt your feel goods. I'm over at tumblr under the same username if anyone wants to come commiserate with me over hurting our precious beans.


	4. The song of the grave digger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has an idea. Logan and Josh have some words. Ashley makes an appearance for sad times. Suggested sound track for ultimate suffering is Cold Blues- Quaker City Night Hawks, Today is the end- Ozzy Osbourne, Until the end of Time- De/Vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... sorry for taking almost a month to upload. I've been busy with real life trying to kick my ass. And upcoming college stuff. Enjoy a quicky

Present- 40 days post prank

“You can’t be serious.” Ashley looks between Sam and Chris, eyes wide with disbelief as she sees the camping gear stashed under the tarp in the bed of Mike’s pickup. “Do you have some sort of  _ death wish _ ?”

Sam doesn’t envy Chris as he looks at his girlfriend and then to Sam with pitiful eyes. “We have to go.” He says finally, shouldering his backpack and turning to Sam, “Where’s Mr. Arsonist?” 

Sam shrugs, grabbing her own duffle from the ground to get in the car when Ashley grabs her wrist, eyes wide and fearful, “Will you keep him safe?”

She wants to say “Yes, absolutely.” But knows better than to guarantee anything on that accursed mountain, so she settles for, “I’ll do my best. He’s a big boy Ashley, he can take care of himself.”

Ashley is so small, so terrified as she holds onto Sam for much longer than should be acceptable for two people who hadn’t even really been friends before this whole fiasco- but that’s harsh- Ashley is just as worried for her safety as she is for Chris’. As she is hopefully about Josh and Logan’s safety. “You be careful, ok?” And before she can try to process the painful twist of her heart Ashely has climbed into her little car and sped off into the distance.

“Should we be picking up break up beer too?” Mike asks, and Sam jumps out of her skin. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.”

Sam glares, but bites the scathing retort on her tongue, “No, she just wanted to wish us luck.” She looks him up and down and sighs that he’s appropriately dressed in a flannel shirt, sensible blue jeans, and steel toed boots she remembers him being obsessed with their senior year of high school. “You ready to go?”

He smiles, and she envies his ability to bounce back- the mother fucker. “Of course, hop in, we can grab some food before we go- it’s a long road ahead of us.” He climbs into the cab with ease, and she feels anger ripple through her when she has to pull herself in and her arms scream in protest. She’d torn some muscle in her shoulder during  _ that night _ and she hates how- how  **unaffected** he seems by the trauma she can’t seem to escape.

“You good Sam?” Chris asks quietly from shotgun and she shrugs because, really, how does she know how she’s feeling? She’s still grieving and traumatized and still watching for undead monsters in the shadows of the California heat. Will she ever be ‘good’ again? Maybe after they save their two friends.

“A little hungry. Hopefully we hit a place with some good salad options.” Is what tumbles from her lips and she sees Mike wink as he heads towards the highway. Always the charmer, that one. The thought feels ugly and she fights the rising panic. They  **are** being stupid. They are  **probably going to die** . And she’s unfairly placing all blame on one Michael Munroe- jackass supreme and fellow trauma survivor. This is so messy. She sighs, and leans against the glass, staring as the warm suburbs pass by faster than she can keep track of and lets it lull her to sleep.

* * *

-3 years ago-

Logan is not just a horror lover (although that does take up about 80% of her brain space if she’s honest) she loves a good thriller or sci-fi adventure too. And that’s what she enjoys having Ashley around for. The redhead is like the fire cracker they were missing when she tentatively arrives for their first Alien Marathon, lighting up the room with her quick wit and even sharper tongue. Not just because Chris becomes a blushy mess where the other girl is involved. Mostly. Probably. It was really fun to watch him trip on flat surfaces sometimes.

“Ok, but like, all of the OG Star Trek problems are because Kirk can’t keep it in his pants!” Josh launches into the argument with fervor, the credits for Wrath of Khan blinking sleepily in Logan’s eyes as she watches the two.

“Yeah? So? Star wars could’ve been solved before it began if they just let Anakin save his mom from Actual Slavery! Anakin was just a whiny momma’s boy kidnapped by weird Not Jesus Police.”

Josh gasps, throwing a pillow right at her face, “You take that back! Jedi are not Jesus Police!”

“So you agree Anakin is a whiny momma’s boy?” Chris mutters, leaning against Logan’s shoulder as they watch their favorite people yell at each other. 

“Yeah! They’re basically monks with swords- medieval monks but lasers!” 

“Well- StarTrek is just for nerds too afraid to have fun!”

“Nu-uh!”

“Yea-huh!” Pillows fly around the living room and Logan shares a look with Chris before they both retreat to the kitchen for snacks. The arguing becomes incoherent and Logan winces when she hears a thud.

“They’re going to kill each other over Star Trek versus Wars? Really?” Chris complains as he fishes around in the fridge, “They’re both just stories. It’s not like- monster movies versus slashers.”

“Yeah, Trekkies are into science and Star Wars is for adventure fantasy lovers.” She takes a deep swig from her spiked root beer and grimaces as the unmixed shot finally hits her taste buds. “Blech- why did you convince me gin was a good idea? This tastes like death.”

Another thud and Josh is crawling into the kitchen, Ashley straddling his back as she pulls on his curls, “Take it back! Pickard is the best captain the federation ever had!”

“Help! Gremlin on the loose! Call the police! Animal control! A fairy god mother!” Josh pleads as she continues to try and rip Josh’s hair out despite the bumpy lurching performance he’s giving. Hand held up like his other friends wouldn’t just let him face the consequences of his actions.

Logan looked down at her imaginary wrist-watch and sighed, “Ah sorry, after one, gremlin control is closed.”

Chris snorts, “RIP Josh Washington- murdered by a leprechaun.”

Ashley, Logan finds out, does not appreciate being called a leprechaun- and launches herself at Chris, taking him out at the knees to start smacking his chest in an effort to…. tenderize those sweet pecs? “I’ll take you all out at the knees and then we’ll see who’s short!” 

Logan can’t help but laugh, the whole scene so ridiculous she can’t help it. She’s on her knees, belly seizing with effort, and ends up in a pile of limbs and furious redhead. “I think it’s nap time now.” She declares, squishing everyone with as much of her body as she can manage. “No more murder- just floor naps.”

* * *

Present day - 35 post prank-

She is  _ angry _ . Her elongated limbs are full of rage and when Joshua comes through the door with more of the meat that makes her mouth salivate and her body ache with yearning she becomes rage personified. She launches herself at him, unholy screaming tearing from her shark-like mouth, and latches onto his shoulder. She feels lost. Like a small pebble in the midst of a rockslide and Joshua is the mountaineer who destroyed her place in the world. 

For a moment Joshua does nothing but drop his meal. Logan cannot feel the claws digging into her own shoulder and the way her blood sluggishly leaves her body like the maple water leaves the trees in the spring. She does not feel the way his limbs pull at her like a vice, and the way she is being torn apart physically because mentally, she is at war. Josh violated her. She did not ask for the numbness and the cold, and the way that her body no longer hurts like it did when she was still human- and she  _ was human _ . Now- she is not. And even though a part of her- the part that would like to stop this petty squabbling and eat what her packmate has brought her- is no longer human, does not care about being human anymore. But the part of her that mourns her soft body and her soft emotions and lack of predatory grace is angry and mourning and so betrayed she does not feel the pain of being attacked by someone she trusts more than herself. 

When she has had her fill of shredding apart his shoulder she lets go, and falls onto the ground to spit out his foul tasting blood. “I….am….done.” She manages. Words are impossibly hard nowadays, tongue too long and teeth too sharp, but she mimics the words she’s heard echoing in the tunnels sometimes during Mid-Sun and this is her apology.

“Done.” Josh agrees, and he pets her equally ruined shoulder before retrieving the meat he had procured and passes it to her, sitting awkwardly next to her and tearing a piece off to pass to her. “Pack.” He chitters his teeth, pressing against the junction of her throat before letting her take the food that makes the hunger abate momentarily. If Logan could cry, she would, because Josh is right. They are what they are- and they are all that they have. Pack, and the hunger, are all that they are. She swallows the meat and with it- her guilt. Apology accepted. 


	5. I'm not the one who's so far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh.... Sam is having some emotions. The mountain is spooky even in the spring. And we have a nice little view at how the crew used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the comment I got on this fic or I might not have had the energy to finish this chapter. Thanks and blessing on your beautiful face.

Present- 45 days post prank-

The mountain feels rotten. Even as she carefully avoids the blooming flowers and green grass, the little signs that life is returning after a long winter of slumber, now that she knows the secrets it feels like death and decay. Like she can feel the hidden evil clawing at her, drawing her to the mines like a moth to a bug-zapping light. The bright green spring scenery can’t trick her- she knows too much.

“Is it weird I preferred when this place looked like a spooky winter hideaway?” Chris asks behind her, huffing and puffing under all his gear.

“Nah,” Mike is the tail of their little herd, sweaty and gross, and unfairly handsome in an “action hero” way that makes the amorphous hatred in her heart roil. “I think it’s freaky too. Looks too… pleasant.”  
She wants to tell him off right now, with the knowledge that he was the reason they’re here- risking death and dismemberment and being devoured. Wants to tell him she hopes he gets eaten while they look for Josh and Logan. But deep down she knows she doesn’t really want that. Even as she grunts and continues walking and ignores the way her body begins to shudder, the ugly familiar feeling threatens her. 

She can almost see it in her head, too. The way a clawed hand crushes his face and the viscera explodes as a face full up of impossibly sharp teeth tears out his throat. She takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and breaths again- forgiveness is the path to healing according to her therapist. But she can’t dull the ragged edges of her heart where she had kept the trust in her friends. “We have to make it to the guest cabin before night- hurry up.” She says finally. Speeding away, legs screaming at her from straining against the uneven mountain terrain, and crosses the path to the cabin. The river crossing approaches fast- a dark reminder of all that Jess had had to endure on That Night- and suddenly she can’t run fast enough. She can hear the ghost of Jess’ screams as she’s dragged into the mines and her heart is beating against her chest as her legs pump mechanically through her oncoming panic attack. If she’s fast enough- if she can just stop the screaming- 

She slams into the door of the little cabin like a freight train, almost taking the old door off its hinges as she throws herself into the small building and her legs collapse underneath her. The walls seem to be closing in on her as she spies the shards of glass still sitting on the ground by the window, still sees the small splatters of blood where her friend had been cut by the glass, and she tries to pull breath into her body. 

She crawls on hands and knees, until she’s a safe distance from the cursed window and to a wall where she can curl up, pulling her knees to her chest so she can try and support herself. Another panic attack, just another reminder that she’s failing from the beginning. A sinking ship in an ocean maelstrom set on her death. At some point she begins to keen- her mind envisioning too-thin limbs and unseeing eyes waiting for her in the darkened corners. Its all her fault and now that they’ve come back she’s going to get her other friends killed. 

Mike is, to her displeasure, the first to the cabin after herself and he instantly drops his duffle in favor of slowly approaching Sam, “Hey Sam, I need you to do something for me Sammy-kins.” His voice is gentle, body language open and loose as he approaches her like a wounded animal and she almost screams, if she had the breath she would because how dare he? 

“Sam,” His voice is soft, eyes pleading as she continues to keen and gasp for breath like a broken record, “I know you’re pissed, but I’m going to need you to breath for me, ok?” His hand gently lands on her shoulder and she flinches momentarily. “It’s ok Sammy, take a deep breath ok? Just copy me. In....out...in...out...that’s it Sam, keep breathing.”   
She wants to yell, to scream, to tell him she’s not ok, that she can’t ever be ok. Instead, she begins to cry. Flinging herself into his arms as she lets the stress and guilt that’s been eating at her drain from her body. 

And that’s how Chris finds them, holding each other and quietly crying.“Uh...I’ll make dinner then, you two… take your time.” He backs into the kitchen and leaves them be- allows them to make their peace while he unpacks. 

The crest of their sobbing like a much more disturbing facsimile of the breakdown that had led to this very trip. But, as all things do, their crying comes to an end and Sam sets her emotions to the side in favor of looking at the blown out window, “Uh… I should probably fix that…” 

Mike nods, picking their bags up and nodding at the bedroom, “I’ll, uh, let you get to that- I’ve got the bathroom window covered after I drop our bags off.”

“And Chris has dinner!” Chris called out, earning a piece of wood debris thrown at him through the open doorway to the kitchen. “Uncalled for Sam!”

It’s almost like she can breath again.

Present- 40 days post prank-

Logan thinks the yellow on the human’s jacket is what makes her so easy to spot. Or perhaps it is that her eyes still see non-movement. And that the sun doesn’t make her hiss in pain like Josh does when the hole in their cavern makes him huddle into a corner while Logan stares at the trees above in wonder. The greens are muted (unlike the bright yellow) but she likes the way they sway and dance in the mountain’s strong winds. She also thinks the bright red hair on the human reminds her of -someone- and she wants to touch it. Josh would be pleased if she killed the thing before moon-rise, she thinks. Like a better apology for their still healing shoulder wounds. 

Logan blinks against the bright sunlight and ventures out, making sure to slink low to the ground as she follows behind. Her yellow jacket is so bright it’s not hard. She’s singing, some quiet little song that Logan finds herself trying to mimic. 

Bad move. The human- a girl- gasps when Logan is too loud- mimics her own voice back at her, and she pulls a small shiny thing (a gun, her before brain supplies) and aims with shaking hands. Josh will definitely be pleased if she kills her. He doesn’t like the itchy wounds the guns produce when he’s shot. And all the humans wandering the mountain lately had carried them. So much for playing with the girl. She springs into action and the thunderous crack of a gun going off is followed quickly by a scream cut short. 

As she slits the throat and laps up the blood she purrs. Josh will be pleased. 

Present- 45 Days post prank-

Sam didn’t think boarding up all the windows would take this long. It probably would be easier if she'd had another set of hands to hold the board instead of awkwardly wedging it into place with her body and then hammering it down as best as she could. But she doesn’t want to ask for it. She doesn’t think she could- the words would catch in her throat so close to an outburst. Her therapist would say it was a defense mechanism and she should get over herself and just ask- to stop bottling everything up so tightly- but Sam isn’t really good at listening to instructions on the best of days.

The screech in the distance makes her glad she had finished at all. It’s unnatural and the cadence makes its way right into the center of her brain and sends her into the -blessedly- windowless kitchen. “Did you-”

“Hear it?” Chris asks, face grim as Sam felt. And she feels her stomach drop. She had kind of hoped that she had just lost her marbles. “Could you check on Mike and make sure he’s not being dragged through a window.” Sam’s face must contort because he sucks in a regretful breath between his teeth, “Sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

She take a deep breath and shrugs- this was how he coped obviously, and she wasn’t going to take it to heart. At least, she’d try. The little wooden hallway feels like a special kind of hell, stretching on for eternity until it Snap! Fell back into place and she was standing in front of the bedroom, facing Mike who was unseeing as he loaded and unloaded the six-shooter in his hand. “Mike?” She asks, careful to not startle him as she approaches.

“Did you know I almost got Jess killed?” Mike says when Sam sits on the edge of the bed with him, eyeing the precise way his hands unload and load the chamber. “I-I fell a few times. When I was- when that thing- I was almost too late.”

“Jess told me she saw you coming for her.” Sam counters. She knows where this is going- they had literally just had a little taste when they arrived. “She knew you would come back.”

Mike snorts, sounding bitter, “But I didn’t. I tried to kill Josh instead.” He unloads the gun once more before throwing the bullets in a belt clip and then the gun in a case she didn’t even see. “I was so mad- so preoccupied with the idea that I had to avenge her death- I didn’t even think about how Josh could have possibly killed her while he was-”

“Busy mentally torturing the rest of us?” 

He deflates, and the part of her that doesn’t hate him feels herself cry at the way her once strong friend has fallen. He’s not unaffected. He’s just as traumatized as her, “Yeah, that.”

Sam takes another deep breath, counts to ten, and pulls his hand- the mutilated one- into her lap, “Its not all your fault Mike- we all thought Josh had really gone off the rails and- and done that.”

Mike sighs, “But did we listen to him when he said he hadn’t? No. And now we have to go find him and hope he’s not a total skeleton when we do.” 

“Well, Chris told me to tell you dinner was done if you want- gotta keep up your strength to carry all that guilt around Mr. Hero Man.” She tries. She really does, ok? She’s so mad all the time, so angry at everyone involved- but Mike still doesn’t deserve the brunt of all her secret hatred.

He cracks a smile, so she’ll consider it a victory, “Does it actually taste good or is it your rabbit food?”

“Hey!” She goes to push him off the bed but he’s off like a rocket- shooting away from her fists as she chases him to the table where Chris has already set up a goofy looking set of mismatched camping bowls and the gleaming wood and silver cutlery the Washingtons had left here. Their little melamine mugs and cups filled with some tea that no doubt was supposed to calm them down. It- it almost feels like a camping trip from before. With smiles and laughs and bad karaoke sung in the redwood forests of California. The residual heat sinking into her bones while she sits on a log and lets the bark bite into her skin. With Chris’ cooking wizardry making even a simple potato soup smell amazing.

“Beatcha!” Mike laughs as he slides into the chair facing the front door and gratefully picks up the bowl to take a deep whiff. “Mmmmm, Christopher, I didn’t know you were going to try to seduce me so fast. Shall I be the top or the bottom after this delicious little dinner?”

Sam throws back her head as she laughs, “I’ll make sure to let Ash and Jess know that they’ve lost to each other.” It feels...easy. Like the air in the cabin is lighter than it had been an hour ago. A little knot in the tangle mess of her heart feels loosened.

-3 years ago-

Sam splutters as the water washes over her face and clambers back onto the surfboard to see her friends all in similar disarray. Josh and Logan have abandoned their little bodyboards in favor of trying to drown each other and the twins. Emily is sitting on her board looking as dignified as one can when they also look like a drowned rat, and Mike is behind her on his own board laughing- somehow escaping the unexpected wave. “Hey Mr.President! What’s your secret?”

He grins wildly at her, “Years of being perfect Sammykins!” And everyone in the vicinity laughs loudly. The sun is warm, the waves are cool, and the world feels perfect in this moment. This is how it should always be. Warm and comfortable and surrounded by loved ones. She doesn’t even notice the horror trio approaching until she’s pulled back under with a scream of “Surprise Attack!” And the spluttering renews. She can’t find it in herself to be mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close.... so far... and yet... Logan and Josh are too busy eating hikers to notice the new people on the mountain.

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters I have written focus heavily on building the relationship between Josh and Chris and what happened leading up to the Prank Night. This whole fic is very relationship heavy and how the characters build/destroy them throughout the game and moving forward. Upcoming: A night in the life of our Three Amigos. Sam has a bad time post game. Chris is also a wreck. Bad times ahead.


End file.
